During their short stay they saw but little of the tutor, for he kept to himself much of the time, rarely joining them save at meal times, and even then he had little to say, as though understanding intuitively that they would like to question him as to the identity of the lad--for they knew nothing whatever of the family history of their master, what relatives he had, or where they resided. Some of the servants began to ply the lad with questions on the first day of his arrival when they had him alone, but they were effectually silenced by the boy replying: “I will go and ask my tutor and find out for you, telling him that you wish to know.” They stopped him short, covered with confusion. And after that experience, in which they were ignominiously prevented from satisfying their curiosity, they made no attempt to question the boy, and he rode the fat, sleek horses at a mad, breakneck gallop, bareback, down the lane, chased the young lambs over the meadow, and pulled ruthlessly the long, slender leaves of the tobacco plants to his heart’s content. During the short time of his stay beneath that roof every one, from the housekeeper down, loved the gay, rollicking lad who was so full of life and spirit and boyish pranks; and they were sorry enough when the tutor announced that their stay at Blackheath Hall had come to an end, and sorrier still when they saw the lad, who had been the life of the house, ride away--and they always carried the memory in their hearts of how he turned and kissed his little hand to them when he reached the brow of the hill, ere he was lost completely to their sight. Then, once again, after this short break in their lives, everything settled down to the same dull, monotonous routine at Blackheath Hall--a monotony which was not broken for full many a year. During this time the master of the plantation still continued to reside abroad, giving not the slightest hint or explanation to his wondering household as to the why or wherefore of his strange action. Thirteen years more rolled slowly by, then came the second break in the dull life of the inmates of the old hall. A second letter was received from the master, this time bearing the postmark of far off Egypt, and announcing that by the time they received his letter a child would be sent to them, who was to make her home at the hall--her name was--Jess. That was all the information the letter contained. There was not even a word as to what position the child was to occupy in the household--whether she was to be reared to take the place of one of the servants when they should be incapacitated by old age from work, or was to be looked upon as a _protégée_ of the master. In due time the child arrived--an elfish little creature she was--in charge of a woman, a foreigner, who understood no English.